


Touch Me

by TheWaitingFangirl



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Hosea is a softie, Light Bondage, Mid-sex Care, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, just saying, reader might be slightly younger........., this is just blatant smut, y'all i really do love hosea wtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-16 13:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20830616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaitingFangirl/pseuds/TheWaitingFangirl
Summary: “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing there,” Hosea commented idly, flicking the page of his book and that prompted an amused huff from you.“Me?,” you feigned innocence and looked over your shoulder, with doe eyes. “I’m not doing anything.”Hosea’s lips twitched up before he decided to look at you with an expression that made it clear that he didn’t really believe you. “What a terrible liar you are.”





	Touch Me

**Author's Note:**

> I am…. idk mate I poured too much of myself into this fic. This is the epitome of my soft feelings for Hosea. I’m crying. I love him. There were so many requests, I panicked. Forgive me for any mistakes, I proof read this myself in the middle of a class, so if I go badly in that test, it’s u guys fault. There were like, 4 different requests for this sort of fic. What the fuck mate. What the fuck. This was a blatant self insert.

Well, if anything, you had what was coming to you.

You felt as fresh as a spring morning, having just gotten out of a properly luxurious bath that the Hotel of Saint Dennis offered — even if they charged for it, you had deemed it a proper _blessing_ after weeks on end getting cleaned up with nothing but a bucket of freezing cold water. It wasn’t always that you could afford yourself such small luxuries, much less with Hosea’s company, given that the man was most of the time running after Dutch to make sure the man wouldn’t end up killing himself — or the whole gang, for that matter — in his crazy plans.

You cocked your head to the side, bending your knees on the soft bedding and allowing the white cotton shirt to ride up your thighs, watching the man sitting across from you in one of the lavish velvet armchairs of the room. He seemed to be too focused on the book he had in hand to be paying much attention to you — not that you minded. It was nice at times, the quiet moments of intimacy that you both had, companionable silence in his tent at late nights as he would read on and on to the light of the lantern and you’d drift off to his hand caressing your ankle.

With a smirk, you rolled to the side and stretched in the bed, letting out a soft sigh of contentment. The shirt had been pushed up once more, now reaching your waist and giving an ample view of your backside and “goods”. Not that you were trying to rile Hosea up — well, _maybe_ —, but it was nice to see just for how long he’d keep up the respectable gentleman-y façade before giving in to your teasing.

“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing there,” Hosea commented idly, flicking the page of his book and that prompted an amused huff from you.

“Me?,” you feigned innocence and looked over your shoulder, with doe eyes. “I’m not doing anything.”

Hosea’s lips twitched up before he decided to look at you with an expression that made it clear that he didn’t really believe you. “What a terrible liar you are.”

You hummed, smiling softly even though you knew he couldn’t really see it. “Can’t help that my tongue isn’t as skilled as yours, dear,” you rolled to the other side, now lying with your belly up and catching his eyes with yours. “We both know you’re the specialist here, ain’t you?”

The man shook his head, although you could notice the slightest hint of a flush on the tips of his ears. He was hooked. “Little vixen, you are.”

“Won’t you come touch me?,” you teased further, running a hand down your thigh to stop it right over your knee. “We have this bed _all_ for ourselves, such a shame if we let it go to waste…”

Hosea huffed a laugh, placing a dried off golden leaf between the pages of the book he was reading, in an all too familiar and well practiced motion. As much as you loved watching him read and be his introvert self, you loved it even more when he pampered you with attention.

“What am I supposed to do with you?,” Hosea smiled now, loosely clasping his hands on top of his stomach as he watched you from afar. He looked really handsome like this, barefoot, down to his sleeping shirt and pants, none of the daily apparel you were so used to see him in. “Giving me a run for some peace and quiet, is that so?”

You smiled, shifting your legs to make the sleepshirt that wasn’t really yours accompany your movements, caressing you as it clung to your skin, flashing your intimacy at him. “Come and teach me a lesson, daddy,” you whispered, parting your legs and snaking a hand down to your entrance with a soft sigh. “I’m dying to have you all for myself tonight.” Hosea hummed, amused by your wanton display. He wasn’t uninterested — more like enjoying the little show you put up for him —, but stayed silent as you slowly caressed your sex. “Won’t you come and teach me how to behave?”

“Should be more careful with what you ask for, sweetheart,” Hosea said, quietly. His voice, usually chirpy and good natured, had adopted a darker tone, like a low rasp — and that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come and touch me,” you whispered in a sultry voice, slipping a finger inside with a tiny gasp, already feeling impatient, “been missin’ you…”

Hosea smirked, strained. He was enjoying your little show, perhaps far too much; unwilling to put a short end to it, but his mask of decency — if you could call it that — was starting to crack. He shifted on the armchair, adjusting his position. “Lookin’ so pretty it’d be a shame to waste the view, ain’t that so?”

At that, you huffed out a breath, something in the middle of a laugh and a whimper. “Don’t be dense, you know I don’t like waitin’ ‘round…”

“That so?,” Hosea inquired, still perched on the luxurious armchair; as a proud ruler to a small kingdom. “Don’t think you know what you askin’ for, darlin’.”

You smiled wickedly, feeling the growing wetness between your legs thanks to the subtle threat thrown your way. Another finger slipped in, making you moan and arch your back slightly.

“That feel good, sweetheart?,” Hosea’s voice sounded impossibly low, contrasting the soft crackling of the fire in the fancy hearth of the rented room.

You whimpered, needy and hot in face of the sweetness of Hosea’s voice. He knew how to get you worked up far too well, and that pushed you to move your fingers slowly in a gentle come-hither motion. Hosea clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side as he watched you make a mess of yourself.

“Look at ya,” he chirped, although you could hear the cutting edge of his voice, straining to keep control, “a lil’ troublemaker, ain’t you?”

Gasping out a laugh, you lolled your head to the side to lock eyes with him, still pumping your fingers in and out. Hosea watched you with half lidded eyes, flickering every now and then to your entrance and, you knew, marveling at how wet you seemed to be.

Now was the moment to strike.

“Come touch me,” you pleaded, puffing out your chest in an attempt to seem even more enticing, “I want you.”

Hosea smiled, pleased at your choice of words. “Might disagree on who has the silver tongue around here, don’t ya think?”

The man got to his feet, his half hard erection marking the soft fabric of his trousers as he approached you. The bed dipped as Hosea sat beside your body, his calloused fingers gently caressing your torso through the thin cotton shirt. You whimpered, closing your eyes in frustration.

“So little patience, my girl,” he whispered, bending down to press a kiss to the dip below your neck, roaming hand moving down grasp at your hand. “Why don’t ya let me take it from here, hm?,” he offered, warm breath fanning over your cheek before he kissed you, slow and sweet; pushing inside at the same time.

You gasped gratefully, arching your back at the expertise of Hosea’s touch. He cooed at you, peppering tiny butterfly kisses all over your face, the hand beside your head digging pleasantly into the mattress as he built up the momentum. “So pretty,” he said in a husky voice, twisting his fingers up making you whine and turn your face to hide it against his neck.

He smiled, now pressing gently on your clit with the pad of his thumb. “Soundin’ so sweet today, darlin’,” his wrist moved faster, lips ghosting on your skin, “you wanna cum? Jus’ like this?”

Keening, you nodded fervently, repeating over and over, “yes, yes, please.” Hosea all but chuckled, whispering sweet nothings as you writhed under him.

“Go on,” he acquiesced, benevolent as always, “cum for me, sweetheart.”

Without much further thought, you did.

The well known feeling spread through your body like a gentle wave from the beach during summertime. Hosea pressed a kiss to your cheek before retreating and offering his cum smeared fingers to you. Obediently, you opened your mouth, mind still buzzed and thoughts fuzzy.

“That’s it,” he praised, smiling gently, like a proud tutor. “Such a good girl, ain’t you?”

You whimpered around his fingers, licking them clean to the best of your ability. Hosea’s praising was addictive, you had come to the conclusion one night after he had kissed your forehead and whispered about you doing a good job. “Yes,” you muttered through a mouthful, closing your eyes; the pungent taste of your pussy covering your tongue.

Hosea cocked his head to the side, watching you with warmth in his eyes. You were so eager at times he feared not being able to keep with you, but experience was on his side. “Wanna cum again, babygirl?,” he asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

“Yeah,” you said heatedly, reaching to palm his erection, “daddy—“

“Ah, ah,” the man took a gentle hold of you hand, insistently pushing it away, “patience, my dear.”

Pouting, you gave him a resentful look, “you’re teasing far too much tonight.”

He hummed in amusement, reaching out on the bedside table for the red neckwear he wore at times. “That I am.”

Your breathing quickened at the sight of the bandana. “We’re going creative tonight?,” you inquired, allowing him to pull your hands above your head and tie them up on one of the posts of the canopy bed.

Hosea smiled at your little quip, pleased at your willingness to go along with his lead. His hands caressed the skin around of your tied wrists, the cotton digging into it, almost reverently. “Ah, you know me,” he commented idly, moving down to your face and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. His gaze held yours when he pulled back, lips quirking up slightly. “I like to take my time.”

It was always like this, with Hosea. At times, he’d rather keep it soft and intimate; you holding tightly to him in the dark as he kisses your neck heatedly. Other nights, he’d let you take the reigns, following your lead as you rocked your hips down on his — never stopping the myriad of praises thrown your way.

But there were also nights where Hosea would rather take his time with you, using your impatience and eagerness against yourself. Some part of you was suspicious he rather enjoyed it, watching you huff and pout at him, but you knew it was laced with reverence and love rather than possession and personal gratification. It made your heart swell and throb for him.

You tried moving your wrists, clenching your fists and frowning. “It’s… too tight…”

Nodding, he immediately undid the knot. His hands coaxed yours to lay on top of the neckwear, tying them together on your palm so you could grasp at it. “Better?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, pulling harshly at bandana to find out that you were positively tied up. “Much better, thank you.”

“Pretty girl,” Hosea sighed, continuing his careful exploration, “a naughty lil’ thing, ain’t you? No one would be able to tell how much of a wanton lil’ vixen you are.”

His hand caressed your neck, playing with a strand of your hair. You relished under the attention, closing your eyes and let out a soft sigh as his fingers followed the trail of your collarbone, popping out the first button of the shirt. Hosea hummed, pleased at your responding shiver.

Another button popped out. “You look so precious wearin’ my things,” he commented idly, and you fixed your eyes on him, “so lovely.”

You arched your back, trying to hint on what you wanted. “Please, daddy…”

Hosea leaned over, kissing around the areola of your breast, making your catch your breath in your throat. “So sweet,” he praised, cupping the soft flesh in his free hand as the other kept on its task of taking off the offending article of clothing, “my lovely girl.”

You moaned, pushing your head back into the mattress. “Yes,” you whimpered, clenching your hands over the neckerchief, “please.”

He kissed the peaked nipple, flicking his tongue slowly over it. Hosea breathed out, cupping your breast in his capable hands — something you had always thought about, even before getting intimate with him, _so capable_ —, squeezing the soft flesh gently in his grasp. “Sweet girl,” Hosea whispered, kissing the other breast, making you whimper.

Your cheeks flushed, lips parting slightly, “yeah.”

Hosea pulled away, fluttering a kiss to your collarbone. You didn’t protest, submissive under his touch and gaze; even expectant on what he was about to do next. He slid down the bed, the wood cracking under your conjoined weight as Hosea settled his face between your thighs; shoulders pressing up on your backside.

You sighed, trying to pull the man closer with your legs. Hosea didn’t budge, instead pressing a lingering kiss to the outer lips of your sex, sucking at the sensitive skin gently and making you gasp. You arched your back, closing your eyes in frustration because it felt _too good_. “Please,” you keened, shifting under his weight on top of you, “daddy—“

He hummed in response, a warning tone for you to behave; and you subsided with a disgruntled whine. Hosea’s tongue licked your entrance, hands snaking around your thighs and fingers digging into your supple skin. With a sigh, he pressed his face more between your legs, alternating between licking your clit and sucking at the inner lips of it. The build-up had been far quicker than what you had expected but, hey, you weren’t about to complain. His focus changed to your clit, teasing it softly the way he know you liked until—

“_Oh—,_” you gasped, twisting your hips, feeling it tense as another orgasm, this one softer, rippled through your body. Hosea wasn’t detained by that, mouth still working around your pussy.

With a pleased little hum, his hand let go of your thigh, moving to press two fingers into your dripping entrance as you thrashed. You whimpered, feeling the gentle tease inside of you again, torn between frustration and pleasure. “_Please_—“

The arm still holding your leg shifted to rest on top of your stomach and navel, to keep you down. Hosea sighed, scissoring his fingers as his tongue teased your entrance before moving to your clit again. He was unrelenting, moaning into your cunt as you still spasming sex clenched once more; his fingers pressing up at the spot that he knew made you swoon.

“I… I—,” you choked, feeling as if you were about to burst once more, sweat already covering your body in a fine sheen, “I’m—“

Hosea doubled his efforts then and you cried out, trying to fight off the pressure of his arm on top of your hips. He pulled out his fingers, pressing his face more closely to your cunt in an attempt to stimulate you further. With a shriek and tears at the corner of your eyes, you came once more, shaking under the weight of him.

You gasped for breath.

The hotel room felt like it was too far away for you to reach at the moment, so you closed your eyes instead; riding the feeling for a little while longer. Your body still trembled, here and there, little sighs that sounded suspiciously like tiny moans coming past your lips. Hosea caressed your knee to get your attention and you whimpered, turning your face at his direction with doe eyes. You could still go.

“Alright there?,” he asked with a smug little smile and you didn’t even have the presence of mind to remember feeling annoyed. You watched him for a second longer, turning your cheek for a loving caress. Hosea stole a kiss from your lips and you could taste yourself there, although fleetingly. “Good girl.”

You nodded weakly, not really sure to what you were agreeing to and pulled at the restraint with a desperate little gasp. Every time Hosea praised you, for whatever reason, you couldn’t quite tell if it was because you did something good or he simply thought you were deserving of it for being yourself. Sometimes you suspected it was a junction of both, although you couldn’t be quite sure. But any other thought left your mind as he smiled down at you, eyes committing every little detail that he could to memory before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“More,” you croaked numbly, agitating slightly. Your hands pulled at the neckwear once more, making the bed creak; although you knew you were more likely to burn your hands than break anything to make an escape, “please.”

Hosea watched you for a second, cupping your face and stroking it with his thumb. “Greedy girl,” he said in a level voice, coaxing you to open your lips and suck at the thumb that had been caressing your cheek. You complied without further ado. He cocked his head to the side, his cum slick fingers, still warm, brushing at your face with the devotion only a man in love could offer. “Beautiful.”

Opening your eyes, you fluttered your eyelids innocently. Hosea snickered, although he still allowed your tongue to run freely through the pad of his finger, the saltiness of it nearly addicting. You felt somewhat numb, tired and spent, but you still wanted more. You _always_ wanted more.

The opened shirt still clung to your body, bunching up and pooling around your shoulders from the wild thrashing. Hosea cooed softly, popping the finger out of your mouth with a protestant whimper coming from you. “Come now, be a good girl for me,” he half-laughed, moving to untie your wrists from the bedpost.

You squirmed, feeling the slight soreness of your arms. It didn’t hurt, but wasn’t comfortable neither — and you kinda hoped he’d keep you tied up.

“Turn around for me, baby,” Hosea asked, petting your head. You obliged happily.

His hands undid the knot on your palm, squeezing them gently to work back the feeling into them. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly, thanking the heavens for the crisp smell of velvety sheets against your face, “good.”

Hosea hummed, moving to slowly rub at your forearms and biceps, his calloused hands adding even more feeling to it; making you almost drowsy with sleep. You sighed in pleasure, lolling your head to the side to allow him to massage your shoulders. He was so gentle and caring when lowering your arms you quite literally didn’t notice it until the knot had been tied with your hands behind your back.

Your breathing caught in your throat, some small part at the back of your mind panicking until you caught sight of the man beside you. Hosea smiled, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand as if petting a particularly affectionate cat.

It made you at ease.

“Such a good, _good_ girl,” he said in a secretive tone, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple; and you could feel your eyes going hazy with the gather of satisfied tears. You loved pleasing him. It was so easy, so good; so _sweet_.

You whimpered, squirming weakly. You still wanted more, a lot more — how could he not tell?

Hosea smiled down at you, pleased at how easily he had managed to break your mischievous spirit for the night. You were a hardworking one, eager to please and easy to subdue — but what he liked the most about you was how you’d manage to make him feel like he was still on top of his game, still young and able.

“My precious girl,” Hosea whispered, caressing your clothed back through the thin and drenched through nightshirt, making you keen lowly. His hand was heavy on your body, comforting and warm, you thought idly; mind too fuzzy to keep rational track of the situation. You felt him moving to scratch the back of your head, eliciting a pleased moan from you. He said something else, a praise by the sound of it, but you didn’t — or couldn’t — register it.

Next thing you knew, Hosea coaxed you to move again; this time on top of his body as he settled in the bed beside you. Your thighs spread to accommodate on his lap, your head resting securely against his chest and his erection pressing insistently to your entrance through the pants he wore to bed. Your breathing deepened, becoming more labored and making you squirm on top of him with want. “Daddy, I’m—“

“It’s okay,” Hosea shushed you, pulling at the nightshirt to expose your back to his careful exploration, “feelin’ good?”

You nodded weakly, closing your eyes again. His fingertips pressed to your skin in a loving way, making you sigh in pleasure. His hips rocked up to yours, the soft fabric soaking through with your essence, making you struggle weakly against the bindings on your wrist. “I want…”

“Yeah?,” he cooed sweetly at you, petting the soft expansion of your backside up to your shoulder blades, raising goosebumps on your skin. You ground your hips on his, tensing your thighs in blind desire. “What’s it that you want, hm?”

With a displeased groan, you hid your face into his neck, nuzzling your face there and breathing in the scent you had grown so used to — herbs, lavender soap and the musky smell of after-shave —, so comforting and familiar. Hosea slid one hand down to your backside, snaking his arm around your waist to keep you there. You felt the gentle caress of his hand on your cheek, catching the frustrated tears gathered at the corner of your eyes.

You felt too far gone to answer properly, clinging to him like a lifeline, feeling shy and needy atop of the man. He hummed, squeezing the skin of your waist to catch your attention, hand still brushing your cheek and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “C’mon, now,” he whispered, voice comforting and soft, “tell me.”

“I want…,” you tried to answer in a breathy voice, shivering with need. He prompted you on, petting your head like one would do to a cat. That took a low and pleased little whine from you, your face turning in the direction of his affection. “I want you…”

“Good girl,” Hosea praised, letting go of your waist to fiddle with the buttons of his pants below you, undoing them hastily, “good, _good_ girl,” he pressed his lips to the side of your face, peppering it with kisses and making you whine in need, “shush, shush…”

Too caught up in your own mind to take notice of what was happening, you allowed the man to push your body up; his hand a steadying force on your waist to help you balance yourself on top of him. Your back touched his raised thighs, supporting your weight when you finally got there, making your breathing quicken.

Looking down, you watched the length of him, hot and firm for you, nestled comfortably between your spread legs; his pants barely taken off.

You mewled, shifting your gaze to him before moving it back down. “Now, _now_,” you complained, squirming on top of him, as if you’d be able to slip it in on your own. “Hosea, _please_—“

Hosea grunted, knitting his brows together. You looked positively goddess-like, bathed in the warm light of the bedroom, covered in a sheen of sweat; flushed and disheveled because of him. It made his heart jump with affection. He took a hold of his cock, coaxing you to push up so he could get a better angle to thrust in, although it wouldn’t really matter with how wet you were.

As needy as you were, you complained loudly at the way he’d taken a hold of your waist, keeping you from quite literally impaling yourself on him. He wanted to take his time.

“I don’t want slow,” you babbled incoherently, frowning in annoyance. He’d had his fun, you wanted yours too. “I need it—“

Hosea looked up at you, somewhat amused by your neediness, sliding his hands up your torso to grasp at your sides. You felt the hold of him on you loosening up and you squirmed again, annoyed at being restrained and so dependent on him — even though the bigger part of you was _living_ off of it. He let go slowly, touching your shoulder softly and, as if on cue, you allowed your thighs to give in.

The first stretch was always exquisite.

It didn’t burn, but you felt the pressure sliding in, every inch up from the depths of your core to the lips of your pussy spreading to accommodate him. It took all the little focus left in you not to let out a shrieking cry of satisfaction, leaning back to rest on his upraised thighs; the only thing going through your mind just how _good_ it felt.

He watched you, almost reverently-like, and caressed your body. His hands brushed the underside of your breasts, your back arching in response and making his breathing deepen in response. You closed your eyes with a frown, moving your hips tentatively.

“That’s it,” Hosea praised quietly, palm moving down to hold onto your waist securely. Feeling more confident about not toppling over, you rocked your hips faster, not sure if you wanted to grind your core against his cock or rotate your hips to delay the loss of him. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?,” he asked suddenly, urging you to move faster.

You could feel the sweat trickling down your back, the neckwear around your wrists digging into the skin, the wetness of your excitement between your legs seeping to your thighs. With a broken sob, you nodded quickly, accompanying Hosea’s directions.

“That’s right,” he agreed, sugar sweet and velvety like chocolate, in a voice bordering the reverence of a repentant sinner. His hips thrusted up, throwing you off your rhythm, but you whined and followed suit, eager to impress and to be praised. “Feels good, doesn’t it?,” Hosea asked as one of the hands holding you shift to between your legs, gently thumbing at your oversensitive clit. “Could do this to you all night,” he commented idly, caressing one of your breasts and taking an excited little keen from you, arms agitating themselves as you tried to break free, “… and you’d let me, wouldn’t ya?”

“Yes!,” you half-whined, closing your eyes again at face of your burning need, far too gone to even try to maintain eye contact with Hosea. His fingers applied more pressure to your clit, rubbing gently and steadily, making you thrash on top of him, “so good, _so good_—“

Hosea breathed out unevenly and you could feel the falter of his rhythm when you struggled. He moaned something that could’ve been your name or a sweet praise, squeezing your waist to steady you on — or in a vain search for control, it was unclear. “My girl,” he moaned, urging you to raise your hips slightly, coaxing you to ride him. You complied immediately, the smooth drag of his cock making you whimper and want to lean forward as to allow him to thrust more wildly than you could in this position. “C’mere, c’mere,” he whispered, hands impatient to drag you down to himself.

Your head nestled securely below his chin, face tucking securely into his neck. You tried opening your teary eyes, seeing the freckled expansion of lithe chest as it rose and fell with the effort of fucking you. You felt Hosea’s hand on your neck, pressing your head more fully into his chest as the other took a firm hold of your backside.

With a choked back mewl, you struggled one last time, allowing the sensation of him drag on until you couldn’t. Hosea’s fingers tangled in your hair, your body rocking into his, following his rhythm to the best of your ability, your breathing feeling ragged and manic to your own ears and you don’t— you _can’t—_

“_Hosea_!,” you cry out and your muscles tense up, clenching tightly as you come, the sensation burning and consuming from within your core; chaotic and perfect at the same time, bordering the violent.

“Sweet girl,—“ the man chokes out a desperate and harsh sound, allowing you one moment longer of seemingly unending bliss before pulling out. “Makin’ me so proud,” he gasps breathlessly, the words jumbling at his throat and you barely had the time to open your eyes before you felt the warmth of his seed painting your backside in generous spurts.

You close your eyes for a moment, thoroughly exhausted and spent on top of the man, barely noticing it when he unties the bandana on your hands to free you — the only sign of it being the sore feeling on your arms and the slight burning sensation on the sensitive skin of your wrists. You moan, eyes closed and hands reaching for his shoulders. You had longed for touching him so long now, it felt like you hadn’t ever done it.

Hosea caressed your back with his fingertips, allowing his breathing to slow down before deciding to move and ready you both to sleep. You nuzzled further into him, kissing his neck softly over and over, making the man chuckle.

“Did so good tonight,” Hosea hummed idly, tangling his fingers in your hair, this time sweeter, “my beautiful girl.”

You nodded, feeling sluggish and sleepy. You had sweated through your sleeping shirt, the bath you had paid for earlier a waste now. “I wish we could do this always,” you confessed quietly, sounding smaller than you actually were, but still meaning every word. Luxury was a hard thing to find in this life, companionship and love included.

Hosea chuckled in agreement, pecking your forehead lovingly. He shifted under you, coaxing you to lay on your side at the soft mattress, getting up on his feet with a groan.

“Where you goooooing?,” you drawled in a complaining tone, extending your arm, “come baaack…”

He shook his head by the water basin, wringing the towel before approaching you again. “Clingy lil’ thing, ain’t ya?”

You puffed out your cheeks with a frown, trying to look annoyed. “I just want to spend time with you.”

“I know,” he nodded with a half-hearted laugh, kneeling beside you and proceeding to wipe off the stickiness on your skin, dabbing where needed and folding the towel a couple times. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” you offered in a soft voice, already closing your eyes and relishing under the gentle attention, “and sore.”

Hosea hummed lowly, pulling off the thin shirt still clinging to you. “We’ll sleep in a bit, sweetheart,” his hands caressed your arms deftly, making you turn towards him and the source of affection.

You sighed tiredly, never wanting it to end. The bed dipped under the weight of his body beside yours, his hands pulling you closer until your head rested on his shoulder, your arm draped over him possessively. Sighing, you closed your eyes, already feeling the promise of sleep coaxing you into its pleasantness. The last thing you remember registering, the soft press of Hosea’s lips to your forehead.


End file.
